Resolution
by Tin CJL
Summary: It may be long thought out or it may be at the spur of the moment, but when a Tin Man makes up his mind, there’s no changing it back.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Is anybody missing their plot bunnies? Because I've got a whole herd of them biting me in the ankles…**

Glitch watched him strut his way through the crowd of pompous nobles, straight to the royal family. His newly reacquired brain wondered if he had always carried himself that way, so absolutely sure of his steps, but then his familiar right half noticed the sense of tragedy the Tin Man carried with him since the Iron Maiden.

"No," Glitch thought, all of Ambrose apparent, "his presence can command the attention of this entire ballroom, but the weight of mortality still obviously rests on his shoulders." Glitch grinned to himself, "not to mention a tiny, blue eyed princess."

Even with half a brain, Glitch could recall clearly and precisely the fast rise and slow flat line of the emotions between said Tin Man and the younger princess of the OZ. He didn't have to posess Raw's empathy or natural sense to see these two were electric around each other. Hell, he didn't even have to posess a whole brain, brilliant or not. And like a hopeless romantic, he stood attentively waiting-praying- for the moment he would bare witness to the downfall of the the great barricade between Princess and Tin Man.

Wyatt Cain was damn good at his job. As Tin Man, as soldier, as protector, and now, as hero of the OZ, he had experience and skill to back up his reputation. Not that he cared.

Loyalty, duty, honor: those things that had mattered so much but in the end, amounted to nothing but pretty words, were in his past. Cain still believed in them, in the purest sense of their intended purpose, but was wise enough to realize they meant nothing when left to themselves. So he was loyal to a fault, but only to those who had shown him the same honor, and far and above his initial training, would protect those very few with his life. The royal family respected him because he had earned it, so he saw it as his duty to return the favor with every fiber of his being.

After an annual of retrieval and damage control, Wyatt Cain knew beyond all doubt that DG would give even the purest of saints a run for their faith.

And that dress she was wearing made him question his own sense of decency.

The Royals were hosting a celebratory ball in honor of parliament being fully reinstated. Said parliament and title bearing nobles from every corner of the OZ were now occupying the massive ballroom at Finaqua. Cain parted the crowd with simply his presence as he made his way straight to the thrones of Queen and Consort. The princesses stood near, surrounded by finely tailored, eligible descendants of nobles, all of whom now directed their attention to the informally dressed Tin Man.

Cain pulled off his fedora and knelt on one knee before the Queen and Consort. Formal greetings were exchanged along with a wink from Ahamo. Cain unfolded and stood, replacing his hat and tipping it to the Queen, ever the cowboy.

The young man who had been speaking with Azkadellia bent his head toward the princess's ear, whispering, "What does your mother think of that man showing up here dressed like a commoner?"

Azkadellia smiled softly, "Wyatt Cain would not care."

He and the other suitors all took a visible gulp, a look of fear on their faces. They had heard of Cain, knew the story of the four who had saved their precious country, but apparantly had not recognized him. The man was legendary for his fight and fierce protectiveness of the Royal family, especially the Princess DG. The man who had spoken shifted his gaze to DG, who was staring directly into the eyes of the fast approaching Tin Man.

DG was vaguely aware of the silence befalling the group of young men and the way they stared at Cain as he strode toward them. It had been a month since he had left the palace in Central City to finish what he had started with Zero, and she had missed him terribly. Now, however, she wanted nothing more than more time, just a few more minutes, to prepare herself for the look of intensity he was bestowing upon her. Oh Ozma, he was a gorgeous man, and he was setting her nerves on fire with his icy blue eyes.

The young men cowered and parted for the intimidating Tin Man as he got closer, knowing if they made a move to get between him and his princess that it would be their last. DG's breathing started to become short and ragged with every step, stopping completely when he stood within inches of her. He didn't touch her, but he bent to whisper in her ear, close enough to move the hair away from her face with his.

"That dress will be in pieces on my floor before this night is over," he growled into her ear. DG shivered and he grinned at the corners of his mouth as he straightened enough to look into her eyes. She couldn't breath but she stared back, afraid to look away. His eyes never lost the fire she had been trying to identify and she was sure they had become much darker. He bent his head closer to hers, invading her space, and reached his hand up to brush his knuckles along her exposed collar bones. The touch was so brief, so light, but the heat behind Wyatt Cain's eyes and his hand on her skin caused her eyes to finally close and she shivererd again, knowing full well the entire room had witnessed this interaction.

When she forced her eyes open, she saw Cain's retreating form- and that ass- walking smoothly through gawking nobility.

Glitch smiled wide and didn't care who saw it.


	2. Before Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I realized, after posting this fic, that I idiotically forgot this part. So to the powers that be, **_**forgive me**_**, as this is my first fic EVER and I know not where I err… yet…**

**I don't own Tin Man. I don't own anything about it- which is unfortunate, because I would look damn good in Cain's hat. **

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who alerted/favorited/reviewed! **

Zero was dead. His lifeless body had collapsed to the ground when the iron suit had been opened. The former soldier had let himself die inside his isolation, having spent mere months stiff and alone.

Cain had killed him. Not the way he had spent annuals planning, but he just as well have.

'No.' It wasn't his victory. All Cain had done was stuff the worthless stain into that gods forsaken torture device- it was not his fault the pansy-ass couldn't handle it.

Aaron, a high ranking soldier of the Royal Guard who had accompanied Cain back into the forest, spoke first, referring to his Commander, "not all of them who entered the suit were made of steel."

Cain growled through clenched teeth, "not steel. Just tin."

The odor of Zero's decaying body hit them then, and a few of the soldiers lurched in revulsion. Cain kept steady, because that's what Cain does. It was a stench he had been accustomed to, the smell of death a long time gone. What nauseated Cain wasn't his sense of smell, but the realization that the putridness was just that- putrideness. It wasn't the smell of victory; his defeat over the man who had cost him dearly. Zero was just another dead body.

It thrilled Cain to see Zero at his feet, motionless and without defense, but he was furious with himself. It should have been his hands around the man's neck. Should have been his bullet through Zero's black heart. Should have been his boot heel through his jaw.

Cain closed his eyes, craned his neck back, and straightened his shoulders, ready to either let out a string of incomprehensible curses or just scream outright, he wasn't sure. But before his mouth could decide, his eyes opened to witness the inescapable blue of the sky above him and his men.

Bright. Brilliant. Consoling. Calming.

DG.

Cain sighed through his open lips, still gazing at the sky. She had told him, upon just meeting him, that he wasn't a killer, he was a Tin Man. She had no idea at the time what it meant to be a Tin Man, but did she ever have a firm grasp on his own personal character.

DG.

She was right. Damn her for being right! For being so infuriatingly right, and good, and strong, and beautiful, and…

"Sir?"

Cain growled deep within his chest and the imposing party took a startled step back.

"Leave him alone Dillon," Aaron interfered, "He'll give orders in due time." They both watched as Dillon walked timidly away, unsure of what to do with himself. "He'll learn."

Cain leveled his head and adjusted his hat to fit correctly, looking steadily but blankly at Aaron. Aaron was used to this, having traveled with the Commander for the last couple weeks. It wasn't a look of disdain being donned on him, just a look of acknowledgement for his presence. And maybe a little thanks.

Cain nodded at his now-decided second in command and stalked off into the forest alone, leaving the bane of his existence to stay rotting within the dirt where he belonged.

Cain paced the forest floor but remained in his own head, where he could observe the war raging there. He had meant it when he'd stopped his son from killing Zero on the spot. He'd meant every word of his advice about heart. He still did. He had surprised himself with that sentiment, thinking there was no way he had a heart to even refer to. But he had- still did- and was quite certain he knew who to blame.

DG.

'Ugh!' Cain groaned, 'outta my head, woman!' He mentally shook her, for the time being, focusing back on the events at hand.

This, Cain realized, was one of those moments a man had to come to terms with what he feels, what he knows, and what he believes is right. He had to find a balance.

He hated Zero, had every right to hate him, and still he had stopped his son from committing murder- an act he considered wrong in every form he could conceive. He shuddered knowing Jeb, his young, wide eyed son, was capable of killing another man. Self defense, duty, for the good of the realm- these were reasons Cain knew to be acceptable for the act. He knows that he is right in wanting revenge, correct in the conviction that Zero needs to be dead, but revenge was not a sufficient reason to take the man's life.

Would he be satisfied knowing Zero was dead, but not having been the one to bleed the life out of him?

_Yes._

DG.

She had saved him from so much, and now she was saving him from all the way across the realm. He briefly wondered if it was something about her magic, maybe it was residual in the land and reached out to him when he needed strong guidance. No, Cain knew better. It was his dead and buried conscience coming back to life, sounding shockingly like the voice of the young princess.

'Damn it woman,' Cain thought sarcastically, 'isn't there anything I can do without you-'

He didn't bother to finish the thought, because he knew instantly that the real question was just that. It was a realization that hit him as if someone had just delivered a blow square to his chest. His head made sense to him then, and he secretly thanked the princess for saving him, again.

DG.

Cain knew what he wanted-needed, not that the two had much difference. He had found his balance- and he recognized this as one of those rare moments when his heart and his head agreed on one decision. And he would see this decision through or die trying.

But there was one more place he had to go before either happened. While turning the thought of Zero's death into a fond memory, Cain called for his men to march out to the cabin where he had left his badge, and where he had once thought he left his heart.


	3. Chapter 2

DG couldn't breath. She couldn't move, she couldn't blink, the poor girl couldn't function at all. Cain had left her completely useless.

"DG?" Azkadellia was tapping her shoulder, "are you allright?" DG could faintly hear her sister from inside the cage in her head in which she found herself.

_Everyone is watching, do something! Say something princessy…_

"…guh…" was all DG could manage.

Azkadellia smiled, slowly, softly, and wickedly.

"I don't know what that man said to you baby sister, but _oh!_ I bet it was good," she giggled.

She focused on Az, the mischevious spark lighting up behind DG's eyes then and she matched her sisters wicked smirk. She was about to share the juicy secret when a trumpet sounded from behind her, making her jump and completely knocking her out of her sweet reverie.

DG looked around the the buzzing room, still unbalanced and hazy. Why had the band stopped playing? Why were all their guests staring at her? Oh that's right- because they had just witnessed Wyatt freakin' Cain all but claiming her in the most biblical sense right there on the throne room floor! She didn't dare a glance at her parents, petrified at the faces they were sure to be wearing.

"Son of a bitch," she sighed, screwing her eyes shut and letting her head fall back.

That was princessy…

Screw it. DG let her Kansas colors fly. She was pissed- and irreparably turned on which pissed her off even more- and couldn't force herself to act like the coy little princess she probably should have been. Now? Really, Cain? Out of all the times they were together- safely alone without the prying eyes of nobility- he couldn't have said something? She knew she was stomping her way through the crowd with the skirt of her dress bunched up in both fists, but she was too livid to pick a direction.

Out of the corner of her eye DG spotted Jeb coming toward her. She needed to scream, she didn't care at who. She quieted her internal berating of the Tin Man and turned on a four inch heel to face Jeb straight on.

"Your father," DG fumed through gritted teeth, jabbing her finger into Jeb's chest, "is _the_ most infuriating, tactless man with the absolute _worst_ timing I have _ever_ met on _either_ side!" Jeb had remained wide-eyed and silent through her tirade, twitching slightly at the force of her finger, but couldn't resist the opportunity he had just been given.

"So it's simply a matter of bad timing, is it then, Princess?" It wasn't a question and he knew he had caught her. His eyes glittered at her stunned glare.

DG narrowed her eyes to deadly slits and huffed, "you're just like him. Not a compliment."

Jeb couldn't suppress his laughter which just served to piss DG off even further, and he knew he was probably about to be blasted across the room by an irate magic-wielding princess. But he couldn't help it, he was a thrill seeker.

He held his hands out in an innocent gesture and remarked, "just tryin' to help you out with your perspective, Highness." The heat was now evident in DG's cheeks and she knew it, so she turned to stalk off toward her sister. Jeb evidently thought he was getting off too easy, so he raised his voice to a volume she was sure to hear, "just doin' my royal duty!"

Living up to _her_ royal duty, she wasn't about to let someone get the upper hand on a member of the royal family. With a wave of her hand, she set every brass button and rivet on Jeb's dress uniform to a scalding temperature. It was minutely satisfying to hear the big, bad Captain of the Royal Guard yelp in pain and surprise.



Thankfully, the crowd had begun to settle back into their own proximity and just covertly glanced at the fired-up princess instead of openly gawking. They were nobility, after all, and were expected to behave as such. DG was absently responding to the suitors flocking around her and Azkadellia. She knew they were looking at them in a manner that was anything but respectful, but she didn't care.

She had tried to make an escape after her confrontation with Jeb, but Azkadellia intercepted her with a plea, "oh no, you're not leaving. I can't shield a suitor-shit-storm by myself."

So now she was staring intently at the door to the foyer, the very same one the Tin Man had marched through an hour earlier.

One very persistant young man was doing everything in his power to entertain the younger princess but DG was having none of it. She was still furious about Cain, no doubt, but she couldn't help but swoon silently to herself. Her body tensed and her blood ran hot when she recalled the resolution in his eyes and the purpose in his stance. This physical response had very little to do with her anger.

_No way in hell one of these shallow fools would have balls enough to pull a stunt like that. _

DG smiled at the thought, and her current headache took it as credit to the inane tale he was regaling her with, so he continued with added enthusiasm. She shot him a look, but he missed it completely so she turned back to the open door and the memory of Cain's knuckles on her skin.

"Dance with me Princess," the young man demanded.

"What?" DG turned to the nobleman, agitated that the little twit would dare interrupt her musings. She took a breath to deliver a scathing rejection when she heard Azkadellia squeak. DG looked up to find her sister gaping- and drooling?- at someone just beyond her own shoulder. She was prevented from turning to witness the phenomena herself because there was a strong, calloused hand on the small of her back. DG's nerves were on overdrive as her senses burned of their own volition because she knew- just knew- who was standing behind her.

The suitor who had propositioned her went pale when a deep, silky voice answered his question, "my Princess takes orders from no one." He lowered his voice to a degree akin to liquid fire, "and if you touch her, there isn't a noble power or magical force in the OZ that can stop me from tearin' you apart."

DG was sure not one of them had taken a breath, herself included, until the Tin Man swept her away from the silent men and her awe-stricken sister. She didn't turn to look at him as he led her to the dance floor. Instead, she was gathering her wits and focusing on being upset with him for his little display upon his arrival. And what was that about not taking orders? This sure felt like taking an order.

_Actually it feels like floating…_

But he didn't have to know that. She was confident she was steady enough to just let her smart mouth do all the talking- until he came into her line of vision, pulling her into his arms.

Wyatt Cain, Commander of the Royal Guard, was dressed to fit the title. DG let her eyes scale down his body and then back to his collar, taking in the fitted and pressed uniform that oh so fantastically stretched across his broad muscles. Gold medals sparkled from where they were pinned on his chest, but even their impressive shine couldn't hold her attention like the straight and rigid lines of his body beneath the starched material.

"Dance with me Princess?"

DG met his eyes when he asked, and found a storm brewing behind them.

Her mind thought "…guh…" but her mouth- and her heart- whispered, "yes."

**A/N: So sorry for the wait! There will be a rating change to M *gasp* within the next couple of chapters, so be ready!**


	4. Before Chapter 2

A worn and weathered man, the Commander knelt to the ground in front of a harshly carved wooden grave. The absolute certainty he had carried in his shoulders since Zero's tin prison had not disappeared, but now looked as if it were placed upon a welcoming altar, and replaced with the rigidity of duty.

Sixteen men stood at attention in protection and respect for the Tin Man and his buried past. The soldiers kept their eyes level, not intruding on the privacy and intimacy of the moments passing- all of them except one.

Aaron knew of the gravity here. As a spy during the resistance, he had honed his skills in observing the people around him, especially those he was expected to serve under. He knew of Cain's history- of his lost wife and found son. He knew Jeb well, and respected him as much as his father, for all the same reasons. He also knew of Jeb's pride in seeing his father live- and love- again, at the unrelenting expense of a princess. It may mean the business end of a six shooter, but Aaron stepped slightly closer Cain to be sure his ascertainment was true.

To the rest of Cain's men, the situation amounted to grieving and closure. These hardened soldiers fought off the depression of the situation, the scene steeped in sadness. So they watched inadvertantly, every single one of them, as Cain uncovered his threadbare soul to a piece of ground.

------

"You showed me how to love," Cain spoke in a low, steady voice. "You showed me how to love effectually and with abandon. I succeeded. I thought myself a man mad with passion for the woman he loved. I was wrong."

Aaron tried very hard not to let his breath catch in his throat.

"I was very much in love with you Adora. I still love you. But I've had annuals to mourn your death and face the life I would need to lead if- and it was a strong 'if'- I ever escaped that hell. I knew you were a strong, bull-headed woman. I knew you would fight for your life and mine, and I had fleeting hopes that you had somehow escaped Zero. Then, I realized that if you had lived through the attack, you would be a broken woman. I knew, absolutely, how empty a broken existence felt. It's a torturous being in itself, unrelenting and without a saving grace. That's when I had hoped against all hope you were gone, that you would never bare witness the destruction of your own soul."

Aaron knew he was the only one of the soldiers who had heard Cain's confessions. He knew he was crying. He knew the other men had seen his tears and he knew that he did not care.

"I was lead to believe you were alive. For selfish reasons, I had let my heart hope that you were, that you were the same woman who had instinctively grabbed that gun when you heard Zero's men. The woman who could level my temper with a sidelong look. The woman who could comfort my torment with a touch of a hand on my shoulder. Reason screamed at me that I was wrong."

Aaron dropped to his knees, praying to any deity that would listen that Cain's words would reach his dead wife.

"I found you here, where you rest I hope to Ozma in peace. I grieved for you then, like I grieve for you now. But now, my sweet Adora, I ask your acceptance and goodbye. Your death and torment has been avenged, not only by myself, but with the powerful hand of a princess."

There. That's what Aaron had been waiting for. Affirmation of his suspicions, and not for any reason less than hope that his Commander would find the same peace he wanted for his lost love. Something in the air- the magic of the OZ? DG herself?- assured the wisened soldier that it would be so.

"I don't know a damn thing about where you are Adora, but if you have been watching at all, you have seen what I speak of. She's quick-witted but wise, stubborn but smart, hot tempered but patient, reflexed but rational, and easier to set off than my old hammerless."

Still knee deep in soil, Aaron did his best to suppress a laugh at his dead-on accurate description of the younger princess. He sobered at Cain's heartbreaking sigh.

"She saved me from the iron prison, my ironclad vengeance, and my iron-bent self destruction. It was her hand goin' to my gun when she thought she could use it- and I swear by my life she could have handled it; it was her who believed in very simple terms that I was no killer and quelled my resolve to take Zero's life in my hands; and it was her who laid a hand on my shoulder when I found this very grave."

Aaron held his breath, for this was the moment of truth.

"I'm in love with her Adora. I'm a man mad with passion, because madness and passion are two of the only things I had left. But now I have a proper direction- the woman who recognizes my downfalls, but brings infinite light to the things I can do right. She knows I'm broken. She knows you will remain with me until I die. She knows the things I am capable of when push comes to blood. Hell, she knows that I sought Zero's blood so hard I could taste it, for you. And I swear that she could taste it too, for me, and for you just the same. She hates, with every fiber of her being, what happened to the OZ, to her people, her family, her friends, and to you and Jeb. It's taken me some time but I think I've finally convinced her of her innocence in the context of all the shit that's happened. You would have been better at it. You, Adora, could have taken DG by the hand and spoken just a few words, and she would have fallen prey to your reason and sympathy. You could have, and would have, made her believe and trust in her own conscience far sooner than I did."

The wind stirred- howled through the trees and shook the boards of the dilapidated cabin in the distance. It cut straight through Aaron's uniform like a knife, and he was about to shiver at the sensation, when he caught a fragrance of juniper- and lavender?- on the breeze, that warmed and comforted him. His eyes went instantly to Cain, still bended knee in the dirt, and his breath stopped short.

The gust of air took Cain's duster blowing out behind him, and then wrapping itself tight around the Tin Man, like a concerned mother or wife protecting her ward from the elements. Aaron watched with wet eyes as Cain's leather connected itself at the appropriate buttons, to rest peacefully against his body. He did not witness, however, the brief but unmistakable brush of lips on Cain's cheek that the man in review felt without question.

Aaron did not hear the last words confessed between man and once-wife and remained in his position with his knees finding home in the ground. The soldier in him still knelt amidst the weeds, pleading with Adora to understand, while the spy in him failed to sense Cain standing directly in front of him. Aaron never made to look caught, or apologetic, just met Cain's eyes straight on, hoping the man understood the admiration in his own. Cain offered a hand to the younger soldier and Aaron took it without hesitation, pulling himself up from his knees. Cain didn't let go, but put his other hand on Aaron's shoulder, in assurance and mutual respect. As Cain walked around Aaron, through the men at attention, and away from the clearing, Aaron caught sight of Adora's grave. There, her name, etched into the wood; the Tin Man's badge, a tarnished star; and the unmistakable shimmer of silver, Cain's ring.

Aaron looked to the sky. Somehow he knew that something had shifted, moved in a proper direction. The air tingled with the ghosts and the magic of the OZ, and carried with it the easy feeling of a circle about to be completed.

He followed Cain then, making his way through the stoic soldiers. Not one of them looked at him like he had expected, for showing his emotion, but instead wore their own drawn expressions. They had all decided, every single one of them, that nothing is tougher than tin.

**A/N:** **The angst and sadness in this chapter wrote itself, I had **_**nothing**_** to do with it. I usually keep a new chapter around for a couple days to proof and change as the inspiration strikes, but I had to post this- stat- because it wouldn't let go! I kept tearin' up all over my keyboard, and that just had to stop. So blame any mistakes on the fact that either my vision was blurred, or that I posted this immediately after writing it. **


	5. Chapter 3

"What is it he is saying to her right now?" Azkadellia dreamily asked of Glitch.

As he was channeling that hopelessly romantic lobe in his brain and about to spout off some answer about undying love, scruffy hands appeared on both the advisor's and the princess's shoulders.

"The hateful man is dead. Because of Cain men. No blood on Jeb or Cain hands. Jeb know, happy. Cain know, happy now."

Az and Glitch turned to Raw who watched the Tin Man and his princess dance.

Raw kept his focus on the dance floor, "DG help. Not know then, know now. Cain tells. Tells of death. Of decision. Of goodbye. DG understand. DG smile."

Glitch and the eldest princess directed their gazes to the dance floor, each smiling at the secret they had been told.

Raw, caught up in the emotions, squeezed them both tighter and confessed, "DG love Cain back."

**A/N: This isn't much of a chapter, but it has been too long since I've updated. I've not given up on this story, but that herd of plot bunnies had abandoned me for a while. But they're back, so that means I am too. **


End file.
